


winning

by orphan_account



Series: Reylo/Harry Potter AU crossover [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27604580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's Part Two. In which James coerces Ben Solo to join him in some ring shopping shenanigans. Sirius, Remus, and Peter are also in attendance. Chaos abounds!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/James Potter, Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Reylo/Harry Potter AU crossover [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018159
Comments: 17
Kudos: 14





	winning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tashadlv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashadlv/gifts).



> So much love and thanks to BlueeyedSue for your beta eyes and encouragement!!!  
> All other errors are my own!

* * *

It’s Time. 

Time for his Plan. 

James Potter always has a plan—even if he needs to amend said plans. Then there are plans within plans. 

And then there is The Plan. Which is a plan within his ultimate masterplan. Hence said title: The Plan. 

He checks his reflection in the mirror. 

Hair: impish and rumpled, what Hermione calls his, ‘freshly shagged’ look. 

Teeth: gleaming and perfect. 

Glasses: boyish and stylish. 

Clothes: immaculate.

He’s ready. Completely ready to do this. 

He’s ready to own this day. 

The Day when he finally makes friends with Ben Solo and proposes to Hermione Granger. 

* * *

“I don’t understand.”

Solo folds his hands across his chest, blinking down at James—because buggering hell. James considers himself tall. A fine specimen of towering masculinity, but Solo is fucking _tall_. A massive tree. A hulking bulwark that refuses to yield—save for under the influence of that Healer Rey he’s lost himself for. 

But James won’t be intimidated. And he doesn’t need Solo’s witch to talk him into this plan either. 

(Mental note to come up with a proper nickname for this behemoth man sometime soon.)

“I need your help,” James answers. Arms folding and eyes decidedly _unblinking_ behind his glasses. “I’m looking at rings for Hermione and require more opinions.” 

“Don’t you have... _friends_...? Other people you know better? Other people in your life who actually care whether or not Healer Granger likes the bauble you select for her to wear for the rest of her life?” 

“I do.” James puffs out his chest as he adjusts his glasses. “They’re coming, too.”

Solo balks. Actually visibly balks. He’d remind James of one Severus Snape, if it weren’t for the fact that Solo is massive and mildly sociable, and Snape is… _not_. 

“Why must _I_ be in attendance then?” Solo asks, brow arched. Quite possibly in suspicion. Good. Very good. A Marauder ought to view all things with a healthy dose of suspicion. 

James has no intention of making it easy for him, though. Not in the slightest. “Because.”

“Because... why...?” 

“I’m the groom-to-be.” James buffs his nails over his shirt. Then fiddles with a cuff link. “I need no other reason.”

Solo takes a step back from the door. Slowly starts to close it. “I’m working,” he tries. 

James claps a hand against the door. “Not until seven tonight. I already asked Remus. Besides, you’d already be there if you were.” 

“I have a date with Rey.” 

“Yes. That tentative possible lunch in the cafeteria,” James drawls, picking at a non-existent piece of lint on the sleeve of his extended arm. It’s not an easy task keeping Solo from backing out of what he doesn’t want to do, but James is up to the challenge. “Hermione informed me they’ll be having some sort of continuing education lunch, and you should be hearing from your witch anytime between now and then to cancel.” 

“Then I should stay here.” Solo’s glaring now. Comically so. “You’re hardly the most reliable source of information.” 

“No need for that drama.” James rights his posture now. And slips his hands in his pockets. “Owls can find you anywhere.” 

“She may Floo-call.” 

“She’s smart enough to try and reach you with an owl once you don’t answer.” 

Solo pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something indistinct. 

_Victory_. 

James can taste it. Sweet, glorious victory. It’s almost here. “I’ve been planning for this day for two weeks now, Solo. Remus has been running intel for me, and even Hermione has had her minor roles here and there. She thinks it’s “marvelous” I want to make friends with you, and who am I to disagree with such a brilliant witch?” 

Solo says nothing, but James sees the tightening of his jaw. Can practically hear the grinding of his teeth. 

Which makes him smirk. “Come now. I’ve a counter argument for anything else you could possibly come up with. Even that you don’t want to. Remus will be there and there’s a stack of books in it for you at the end of the morning if you’re a good little Healer and get your things and follow me.” 

One final withering glare is thrown at James…

Then… 

“Your coffers better run deep, Potter,” Solo says, dark and threatening. “I’ll be making a list of books that's both extensive and expensive.” 

_Victory. Sweet Victory._

* * *

Madness. Chaos. Anarchy. 

The lads have taken over the jewelry store. James paid the establishment upfront for a private appointment lasting all morning. An expense he’s happy to bear, especially as he’s no intention of purchasing a ring in this fine store. 

Oh, he’ll buy a small bauble or trinket for Hermione’s slender wrist or delicate neck, but he’s already selected The Ring from his family vault at Gringotts. A perfectly blue sapphire, for the Ravenclaw she is. Not too big. Not too flashy. Enough to be instantly noticed and remembered.

The Ring is goblin made and perfect. And not at all the main purpose of this day. 

Today is about the gloriously chaotic combination of comedy and crusty old characters, and seeing how it all unfolds. 

(And here’s hoping none of it leads to wands drawn and challenges to a wizard’s duel. But… one can never tell with Sirius.) 

As expected, Sirius is pouting and positively _fuming_ they’re shopping together, constantly muttering under his breath that he could have sworn he remembers finding The Ring with James “ages ago.” (He did, but James is steadfastly ignoring such claims and keeping himself otherwise occupied.) Peter finds himself on the shy side of people he doesn’t know still, and Solo is an actual walking Bulgarian Tree, and _so_ intimidating in all of his brooding glory—all this to say: Peter isn’t talking much and is hanging close to Remus. Which is unfortunate for Peter, because Remus is the only one Solo actually seems to enjoy talking to. 

Speaking of Solo… 

“Oi!” James shouts, startling everyone into halted positions around the shop. “We need a proper name for Healer Solo here. He’s helping in the process, he deserves a title.” 

It’s lovely power, knowing all eyes are honed on him, and he’s the instigator of the following explosion of chatter.

Solo, annoyed: “I already have a name. ‘Ben’. Or you can stick with ‘Solo’. I don’t care.” 

Sirius, suspicious and glaring: “How much do we actually know _of_ him? Can we trust him enough to make him a pack member?” 

Remus, placating and reasonable: “I’ve worked with him for over two years now, Pads. There isn’t much he doesn’t know about me and our school days by now. He’s pack as far as Moony is concerned.” 

Sales Associate with a Giant Mustache: “Shall I give you all privacy for some sort of initiation, Mister Potter?” 

James: “Nonsense—what was your name again? Higgins?” 

Sales Associate with a Giant Mustache, now wiggling said mustache: “I’m Weston, sir. Higgins is behind the other counter, sir.” 

Sirius, unashamedly impudent: “No need to sound so offended, _Weston._ It was an honest mistake.” 

Weston, blinking: “I beg your pardon, but I was not offended, sir.” 

Sirius, winks: “Yes, you were. There’s a rivalry going on between the two of you, so, come on. Let’s have it out. Air out all your differences. We’re all friends and family and _pack_ now, apparently.” 

Solo, appalled blinking: “Merlin, spare me.” 

Peter, spine straightening in courageous debate: “Not everything’s about you, Padfoot. They’ve both been doing a fine job, and Remus is allowed to have friends outside of us. I wonder if you’d care to see these diamond rings over here, James.” 

James makes his way to the glass counter where Peter is pointing, and he has to admit: Peter has good taste. Several of these rings will do for upcoming Christmas and birthday gifts. There’s even a dazzling set with a necklace and earring he thinks his mother will love… 

“Weston. Higgins.” He calls and motions, and to his utter delight, the two come rushing. “Wrap up that set with the earrings and necklace. And there’s a ring off to the far left there—no, no. _My_ left, not yours. Yes, yes. That’s it.” Wiggins or Heston holds it up and James leans in, squinting in appraisal. “Perfect. Have that sized for Lady Potter and deliver the lot together. Charge it to my vault, please.” 

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” 

They scurry and rush, and the discussion of the nicknames is dropped. Which is fine. Spiffing and _marvelous_ , actually. 

Peter is now proud and happy for his contribution to the outing, and James thanks him sincerely. Sirius is still unappeased, while Remus and Solo are having a look in a case of more simple bracelets and necklaces on the other side of the shop. 

In other words, the scene is set for the madness James decides to stir up next. 

James: “What stone d’you lot think I should get?” 

Sirius, sulkingly: “I thought you’d already selected a sapphire.” 

Peter, pacifying: “Oh! A sapphire would work. She’s Ravenclaw, after all.” 

Solo: “Do Hogwarts houses dictate every last accessory adorned with you English?” 

Remus, amused: “Seems like it.” 

Sirius, offended: “Why shouldn’t it?!” 

Peter, hastily: “Not necessarily. I thought it would be a pretty colour with her eyes and hair and all, though.” 

Sirius, vindicated: “That’s right! Brown and blue go together. Do that, like you already planned for.” 

Remus, logical as ever: “Well, now, but if you’re thinking of what she wears all day, a diamond or emerald may work better with her Healer robes.” 

Peter, eager to please: “An excellent point, too, Moony. There’s also the option of something like a pearl or—” 

Sirius, shaking his head: “Stop right there, Wormy. You know your Quidditch gear for perfect presents, I’ll grant you that. But you have appalling taste in jewelry. Alice never wears the things you convinced Frank to buy.” 

Peter, crestfallen: “Oh. I hadn’t realised.” 

Remus, clapping Peter on the back: “Not to worry, old boy. You also have the finest taste in chocolates and Moony and I are indebted to you for life.” 

Peter, perking up: "Good. Very good, then." 

Sirius, still irritated: "I wasn't saying anything against his taste in _other_ things! Merely pointing out that he has poor taste in—"

Solo, through his teeth: “What do _you_ think you’d like to get her, Potter?” 

Westigs or Higston: “Begging your pardon, Mister Potter, but have you seen the ruby display case? We have a very fine selection there, if you’d like to make a bold, Gryffindor statement.” 

James, dramatically sighing while internally bursting with wicked pride: “I dunno, lads. Am I rushing things? Should I even pursue marriage with her? Is it too weird for Harry?” 

He knew it would all come to a maddening end. Counted on it even. Expected and maybe even hoped for it. Solo could use a bit of loosening up, and it’s shocking how even all this time spent in a relationship _hasn’t_ loosened him up. 

What James _hadn’t_ counted on was the eruption from his friends. Their loud outcries and exclamations. How they rushed to vehemently praise Hermione, along with all her fine qualities. And in the midst of all this, Solo stomps out the store. 

Well. Not entirely _stomps_ , per se. There’s growling involved. Growling. Clenched fists. And a stiff announcement of “needing some air.”

And. Walking. Outside. 

_Interesting._

A plot twist. A challenge. 

James never shies away from a challenge. 

* * *

“Why did you want me along for this? The truth.” 

To his credit, Ben Solo hasn’t left. He’s waiting on the cobblestone sidewalk just to the side of the shop. And he’s demanding an explanation.

Both observations amount to a solid start in James’ opinion. 

So he shrugs, hoping an air of nonchalance will put Solo at ease as he walks over. “I like to annoy people, and you were so fun to rile up.” 

Solo snorts. “Figures.” 

“That’s how it started, at least,” James continues, stopping once he was a nearer proximity to the miffed wizard. Close enough now for some honesty—he’s found proximity helps with that. “Then in all the interactions, you would remind me of Remus, which makes sense. The two of you get on so well together at work, but between Hermione, Harry, and my own job, it can take me a while to figure new people out. Once I made that connection, though, the rest of me latched onto the idea you needed friends who wouldn’t let you isolate yourself out of a pack.” 

He scoffs and stubs his toe in the sidewalk. “Not everyone needs a pack, Potter.” 

“Nonsense.” James makes an airy gesture with his hand. Motioning at the clusters of people milling about outside. “Everyone needs people. Everyone needs a pack.” 

“I don’t like large groups,” Solo counters. 

And it’s so normal and simple that James believes him. “You don’t have to take on the lot of us,” he says, “but I said what I said: everyone needs a pack. Ours is big and loud and weird. Remus likes you. I’ve seen enough of you while being around Hermione to consider you a decent bloke. You could be a part of ours. If you’d like.” 

Solo starts to shake his head, but something in the silence tells James it’s not a refusal. It’s an outward expression of internal struggle. 

_Excellent_. 

He quickly strategises and decides to go for complete vulnerability next: “We’re not perfect, either. We’ve been through a lot together, and a great deal of our troubles are self-inflicted. I’m not dumb enough to say they’re not.” 

A sigh. A heavy sounding sigh. “That sounds familiar.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” There’s a nod and then Solo is looking right at James. “My family at home is… complicated. To say the least.” 

“See? You get it.” James permits a smile to form in his lips. “Family is complicated, and, yes, we all seem to have our favourites, and I can see how intimidating it would be to consider how you’d fit into all that.” 

“Favourites? You bicker equally and are all always together.” 

James laughs now; he can’t help it. It’s always intriguing to see his pack through someone else’s eyes. “Not _always_. We make more of an effort now that we’re all grown up, but it’s easy to assume Sirius and I are the closest ones. He was kicked out of his home when he was sixteen and my parents took him in. We’re still partners in the Auror department. We tease each other the loudest, but when you spend more time with us, it’s easier to see the little connections we all share.” 

Solo presses his lips into a thin line, but lifts his brows at James. 

Unspeaking permission to explain himself. 

And so he does. 

Gladly. 

With loads of exaggerated gesticulating. 

“You know all about our history, thanks to Remus, so there’s the canine connection thing Remus and Sirius have. Sirius is the one who’s always with Remus all day before, during, and after the moon. We all make time the night of, but Sirius sets three whole days aside every month and is Padfoot the entire time. Without fail. He claims it soothes Moony, but Remus has never confirmed this. Peter was the one who came to see me and talk me out of my angered frenzy when Lily first started to date Remus while very pregnant with Harry. He would never fail to bring me some form of take-out one night a week when Harry was little. Peter also still sends Remus chocolates at work the weeks before and after the full moon; it’s a standing order from Honeydukes. And Sirius and Peter set each other up on blind dates and have bachelor pub crawls… Are you getting the point?” 

“You’re all close and supportive.” His face twists into something James can’t discern, but pains him nonetheless. Solo softly asks, “Why are you insisting I be brought in?” 

“Because I’m stubborn and invasive,” James answers. “And bloody persistent. I don’t give up on an idea once I’ve decided on it.” 

A snort, coupled with another headshake. “Admirable traits if they weren’t being used against me.” 

James chuckles and permits silence to settle between them. A quiet moment to process. 

Process and consider before he quietly adds: “Look, if you hate the lot of us, I’ll have to make peace with that. But fair warning that I’m considered even more annoying by my enemies.” 

“Circe.” Solo drags a hand through his hair. “You mean there’s no avoiding you? Ever?” 

“Not really. I’m a bit of a nuisance like that.”

It shouldn’t have delighted James so to hear Solo grumble something that sounded an awful lot like, “ _Fuck_.” 

But it did. 

Oh, how it did. 

“Is there a sort of code you’ve all agreed upon for when anyone needs space or alone time?” 

James makes a face, considering the inquiry. “Someone usually hits someone. Or challenges the other to a wizard’s duel. Or locks the Floo. Or lies about having a date, and then goes on a date so it’s not a lie. And, let’s face it, a date’s the preferable option to any of us.” 

“Okay…” 

Silence follows. 

James doesn’t push it. He waits. 

And waits some more. 

Finally, Solo parts his lips. And speaks. 

“I didn’t grow up with many friends, so I’m still learning. I like my alone time and I don’t care for being teased. I take my work seriously. I take my relationship with Rey even more seriously.” 

“Fair enough.” James tilts his head, opting for more honesty in return. “I’ll probably still find ways to mess with you. Just because, you know. But I do it out of love. Not for the sake of antagonisation.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

They blink at each other and it feels like it should be some sort of hand shaking moment. But James thinks… maybe they’re beyond the need for social conventions like handshakes…

But Solo stuffs his hands in his pockets, and James takes that to mean there’s still work to be done before he’s ready for a proper Potter Handshake. 

Solo looks over his shoulder to the jewelry store. “You already have a ring picked out, don’t you?” 

“Yep!” James reaches in and withdraws a ring box from his own pocket. “A sapphire. Found it in my family vault ages ago and knew it was the one immediately.” 

“Merlin…” Solo growls under his breath. Swears some more. Then says, “Then can we please not go back in there? Maybe grab something to eat before I really do have to leave for my nap? You can forgo bribing me with books this time. ” 

“Nap?” Nevermind the not having to pay up for a large book spending spree. This is blackmail worthy information he can use for years. And _years_. “Like those stretches of sleep in the day that Harry used to fight tooth and nail when he was a baby?” 

“I’m working all night the next three nights in a row.” Solo shrugs like this is regular. Routine. Mundane. “I always take a nap from two to five when I work nights.” 

“That’s very… responsible of you.” The bloody knob is _proud_ of his childlike sleeping habit. No-go for blackmail, then. “Committed and commendable.” 

Solo huffs and motions at the shop. “Whatever, Potter. Are you getting the rest of them or not?” 

“Sure.” 

James grins as he marches to the shop to collect the rest of the lads. As far as he’s concerned, Operation Get Solo To Be My Friend is a success. 

And James loves winning. Especially at his own games. 


End file.
